


Death Becomes Us

by Dallas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fantasizing, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dallas/pseuds/Dallas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Hogwarts grows quiet after the events of HBP, it’s left to Poppy to make the trek to the Hog’s Head and speak to Aberforth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death Becomes Us

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Squibstress during the HP Humpdrabbles Wishlist fest. (LiveJournal)

Poppy had brought him the news. Because when all was said and done Minerva couldn’t bring herself to do it. So he sat at the bar with the Hogwarts Matron as he stared into his firewhisky. The news was hard to take, they both knew it. His brother was dead and that left him as the last of his name. It was surreal, to say the least. They’d both lived so long he’d started to wonder if Albus had actually managed to find a horcrux and somehow dragged him along for the ride without his knowledge. He poured Poppy another firewhisky, ignoring her weak protests. He knew why she had been the one to bring the news. Anyone else would have attempted to placate him with words that did not hold true. In his time he’d seen enough death to know that was how it worked. But not Poppy. Like Minerva, Poppy could be painfully blunt and that was exactly what he needed when he asked why it was her that came to the Hog’s Head that night.

 

“She doesn’t want to see you,” Poppy told him simply, though her concern was evident in her eyes as she looked at him. “She feels terrible about it, Abe, but she needs time to let it sink in before she has someone who looks almost exactly like him standing before her.”

 

“I could sit if it would be easier?” he found himself chuckling as Poppy’s eyes widened. It wasn’t like him to joke. He’d always been more serious than Albus, but he found himself smiling now all the same. “It must be Albus watching over us. It hurts, I promise you, but I feel the need to laugh.”

 

“A nice change then,” she said quietly, taking a large mouthful of firewhisky. As she swallowed, she shook her head. “The school is full of shock and sadness. You can feel it everywhere you go. Minerva’s worse off, she’s had to take charge... Everyone’s looking to her for answers and she has none. I had to sedate her just to be sure she would sleep while I came down here.”

 

“He had faith in her,” Aberforth muttered.

 

“We all do,” Poppy shot back, almost defensively. Her loyalty to her friend just as strong as it had been to the Headmaster. “We all know Minerva is the only one who could possibly take over from Albus, it’s why he insisted she become his Deputy. The trouble is Minerva doesn’t see it. She runs herself ragged, just as she did when we were students, and she’s too scared of failing to see the bigger picture.”

 

“Didn’t think Minerva was scared of anything. A better Gryffindor than Godric himself,” he turned and spat over his shoulder as the children were prone to do when forsaking the founders. “That’s what Albus used to say.”

 

“You know as well as any that it is the dim witted man who believes he has no fear,” she corrected him, her own House virtues shining through. “Bravery comes from knowing your fears and learning to face them.”

 

“Anyone has the potential to be brave then,” he noted.

 

“Not everyone,” she said quietly.

 

“You, Poppy? I can’t imagine it,” he chuckled, finishing off his glass and pouring another. “You’re the most honest person I know, and intelligent. If you can’t recognise your own fears well enough to tackle them then there’s no hope for the rest of us.”

 

She took a deep breath and downed the last of her firewhisky, sliding off the barstool to stand beside him. “You’re right,” she said simply, her hand reaching up to turn his face toward her. “You’re absolutely right.” She kissed him then just as she had always imagined he would kiss her, the firewhisky burning through her replaced with the passion she had held back for far too long. He turned on his chair, trapping her between his strong legs as he kissed her back just as fiercely. He tasted like whisky and rabbit stew and, while she never much cared for either, she couldn’t get enough of it. This was her moment, this was what she had waited for.

 

“Poppy?”

 

She looked at him, his voice startling her as she was drawn out of her thoughts. Her cheeks flushed slightly. That was the last thing she should have been thinking about. It wasn’t the time. “I think the alcohol is getting to me,” she said softly, touching her cool hand to her burning cheek. “You know I’m not a good drinker, Aberforth.”

 

“My apologies, Poppy,” he said. “I’m afraid I wasn’t ready to part with your company.”

 

“I am happy to stay with you, Abe,” she told him with a gentle smile, wishing she could tell him the truth of the matter. “But, please, just water for me.”

 

He chuckled and nodded, moving from his stool to pour her a glass of water.

 

She sighed heavily, watching him as he moved behind the bar. They were a sorry bunch. She couldn’t help but wonder if the founders ever had such a problem. She had been in love with Aberforth since Minerva had dared her to enter the Hog’s Head and order a firewhisky when they were sixteen. The only trouble was Aberforth, like most men, had looked through her the moment he laid eyes on Minerva and it was plain to see - at least to everyone but Minerva herself. As Aberforth sat beside her once more, she looked at him sadly. “Do you think he knew how much she loved him?” she asked, studying his face.

 

“You would think if he did, he would have gotten around to acting on his own feelings,” he responded, his tone morose.

 

“There’s a lesson in that,” she said quietly.

 

“There is,” he agreed.

 

They sat quietly at the bar, two lonely souls sharing a deep despair, the night’s silence dragging on around them. Albus’ death had affected them all. Somehow they’d manage to get through it together. The only problem was to deal with such a drastic change it was sometimes easier to keep everything else the same.


End file.
